


Idiots in Love

by functiondys, sweetestthing (functiondys)



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Awkward Romance, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/functiondys/pseuds/functiondys, https://archiveofourown.org/users/functiondys/pseuds/sweetestthing
Summary: They never quite manage to do things normally, but Miller's starting to think that normal is hugely over rated.Hardy's not sure he's ever going to figure out what normal is.





	1. Chapter 1

“Stop stealing the blankets you bloody wanker, it's freezing.” Miller tugged the meager expanse of duvet that had fallen on his side away, bundling it up against her chest. “Christ, why do I put up with you?”

Hardy's heart rate was still comfortably elevated, his breathing settling down now but the endorphins were still way too high for him to find anything, even Miller's irrational grumping that irritating. In fact, at the moment, the closest he could manage to it was somewhat endearing. God, but endorphins were fantastic. 

A lazy smile drifted over his features.

“Cause I'm gruffly irresistible to you?”

“You,” she replied, plastering herself up against him in an attempt to filch as much body heat as humanly possible. It wasn't even that cold, at least he didn't think it was. “Are barely tolerable.”

“Oh really, then what am I doing in your bed then DS Miller? You explain that one to me.”

“Apparently DI Knobhead, I have low standards.”

“Oh please,” he snorted. “You could do far better than me if it was just low standards. No, no you're not excusing it with that.”

“Fine,” she huffed. Desperate, then.”

“Nah,” he snuggled back into the pillow a little, enjoying the sensations of her naked form pressed against him, hidden by a mound of duvet thought it now was. The duvet wasn't irritating him yet but his mind had already started to acknowledge it's presence as an inconvenience.

He continued their dialogue, lazily hypothesizing about her. “That'd be clubs and hook-ups and your sister setting her up with her mates.”

“Oh god,” cringed Miller. 

Not just normal cringe, that was decomposing body level of cringe.

“See?” Hardy continued, satisfied that his point had been well made. “That's rock bottom. No, you've – you've gone and got yourself a weird kink or something.”

“A weird kink, that's what you think?”

“Best explanation I've got,” he shrugged but minutely, not wanting to disturb her. “Dunno, maybe you've just gone off normal.”

Miller took a moment, as if wondering to herself whether that might actually be somewhat true. Or possibly whether or not to punch him in the balls. Things with her could go either way really.

“Or maybe you've just figured that the people acting normal are just that – acting – and maybe the irritable weirdo is the one most likely to be genuine.”

“That is a very weird thought.”

“Weirder you can see the truth of it though, isn't it?”

“Mmm.”

Hardy reached out to take her hand, she let him easily.

“It's not so bad though, is it?”

She gave his hand a squeeze.

“It certainly looks like it might have it's advantages.”

“I mean more than just...” he couldn't quite vocalize it but his look took in their two slightly sweaty, tussled bodies. Hers still buried in that bloody duvet and now he thought about it, the temperature had dipped a wee bit.

“Yes, you dolt. More than just that.”

Hardy went quiet, not really quite sure how to respond to that. Miller could tell he wasn't completely reassured by the answer. 

“A lot more than that,” she muttered into the air between them, not quite daring to look at him for this. Instead she watched her fingers trace over his skin.

“Okay,” said Hardy. At little gruff, but accepting. There was something more that he wanted from her but wouldn't say. Knowing him he never would.

Miller traced patterns, dot to dot between the freckles on his slightly too pale skin.

“D'you... d'you know why they have bridesmaids at weddings?”

Hardy tensed, just for a fraction of a second. Miller could hear the cogs working behind his thick skull. She'd thrown him, jerked the relentless juggernaut that was his mind into action as it whirred through the possibilities of where this might be going, of what she might mean. 

That didn't stop him from answering though.

“Keeps evil spirits from the bride or something?”

There was a definite question in his words but Miller knew it wasn't confirmation of his answer that he was asking her for.

Miller nodded into his chest. “Because she's in love and daring to celebrate, daring to have a future with someone and there is nothing evil spirits like more than attacking people at their happiest.”

Hardy hummed. “Decoys.”

“Yeah.”

“Kinda like how actors say 'break a leg'.”

“Yeah.”

“Miller?”

“Yeah?”

The pause was so hesitant, so tense in the air that she almost turned around to look at him but the words tumbled out before she could. 

“There's nothing special about you.”

A pang shot through her, pain then outrage.

“My feelings for you...” he stumbled over the word and she stilled her reaction because that was not a word she'd expected to fall out. “My feelings for you are simple, uncomplicated and shallow.”

It felt like every single part of her had stilled.

“I find your capabilities and your work ethic to be as common and unremarkable as your tenacity and your will. In you I find no companion spirit...” Hardy's voice was beginning to tremble, breaking just a little. “And I have no hopes or intentions that this might every become anything more than temporary. So... so there.”

Miller shifted to look at him, the tears had been building in her eyes for some time.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

Hardy's breath caught in his throat.

“I hate you more than you'll ever know,” he replied roughly.

Miller kissed him.

“God I hate you,” he muttered through returning the kisses. Miller straddled him. 

“I despise you,” she hissed.

Hardy groaned and pushed her over, keeping himself between her legs.

“I bloody loathe you,” he growled as he kissed and nipped along her neck.

“Say it again.”

“I loathe you Miller, I fucking loathe you.”

Miller laughed against him, Hardy looked up – tore himself away from worshiping and claiming all his favorite parts of her – just to see the look on her face. It was worth it, it would be worth it for the rest of his life to know he'd put that there. Tears and happiness, unbridled joy on her face. The most unguarded he'd ever seen it. 

Then and there he resolved to himself that he wasn't going to fuck this up. Not one bit, his purpose in life wasn't Sandbrook anymore. It was putting that look on Miller's face. 

“God look at you,” she smiled and the tips of her fingernails caressed his scalp, brushing rebellious hair aside. “Grinning like a big dope.”

“Am not.”

“You so are.”

“You're insufferable, do you know that?”

“Is that so?”

“No idea why I put up with you,” he shook his head.

Miller giggled again, letting out a ridiculous sort of giggle-snort part way through before clutching her hand against her mouth, eyes wide. Hardy collapsed giggling.

“Oh shut up, you knob.”


	2. Chapter 2

“We should probably be discouraging that,” Ellie said, leaning against the school gates.

“Yup,” said Hardy, hands still in his pockets.

“I mean that's probably not setting the best example.”

“Probably not,” he agreed.

“And god knows what the teachers will be thinking about us.”

“Mmh.”

Fred squealed and slipped from the reach of the flustered teaching assistant.

“The thing that I don't get,” puzzled Hardy scratching at his stubble. “Is how he got his clothes off that quickly.”

“My son has a talent.”

Hardy nodded sagely as Fred sprinted through a muddy puddle in nothing but his velcro-strapped shoes. A feat he managed with significantly better balance than his unfortunate pursuer. 

“Ohh,” flinched Hardy. “That did not look like a good landing.”

Ellie snorted behind a raised hand.

Fred giggled as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen, as did the chorus of attentive small children assembled on the playing fields. A couple were already starting to remove their own sweatshirts.

“Fancy a cuppa?” Ellie asked.

“Sounds lovely,” he said, reaching out for the handle of the car door.

“Mr and Mrs Miller!”

Hardy shut the door behind him, Ellie slipped the car into gear.

“Know a Mr and Mrs Miller?” Hardy asked.

“Nope,” she replied.

“Huh, wonder who she's talking to.” Hardy buckled himself in as Ellie drove off. 

A woman in a business suit yelled at them as they drove off. Hardy, attentive as he was to Ellie's requests that he at least try to integrate with the human beings of Broadchurch gave her a smile and wave as they passed. 

Ellie gave an amused snort.

“Little Freddie off to his first day of nursery,” she sighed. “What on earth are we going to do with the rest of our day off?”

“Tough decision, I mean it's probably conventional that we sit around distracted and worry about how the poor wee fella's going to cope with being there.”

The silence lasted a beat before they both broke out laughing.

“Oh,” Miller said wiping away a tear. “Oh that was a good one.”

“Know what we could do?” Hardy proposed.

“What's that?”

“Could keep to the new family traditions, solidarity with your youngest and all.”

“What, go to work in the nude? I think I'll pass on that one but you knock yourself out.”

“I was thinking more strip naked and do something fun.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I mean it's practically our responsibility. All good parents should support the interests of their children, I read it in a book.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Proper one, no pictures or anything.”

“Well, if a book without pictures says so.”

“Exactly.”

“Naked time it is,” she grinned.


	3. Chapter 3

“Any movement?”

Miller dropped her keys into the bowl by the door and slipped off her satchel. Hardy popped his head into the hallway, eyebrows raised in askance.

“Nothing,” she replied.

“Hm,” her partner muttered then disappeared again.

“Yes thank you,” said Miller. “I had a lovely day at work.”

“Thought you said you didn't get anywhere?” 

The reply was as puzzled as it was disembodied.

“Twat,” she muttered to herself and kicked her shoes off into the assembled mess of footwear in the hallway. Then paused, sighed and tugged her slippers out from the bottom. 

Miller padded her way through to the kitchen on tender feet as Hardy took two foil covered plates out of the fridge and set them down on the table.

“Be a few minutes,” he said, nodding towards the oven.

Miller sat down and rubbed at the back of her neck. Hardy clicked the kettle on.

“You're not gonna ask?”

“Bout what?” He replied.

“Not going to press about the case?”

“Nope, it's eight and we're both home with no extenuating circumstances. That's firmly within no-work-talk time,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

Miller gave him a look. “It was literally the first thing you asked me when I came in the door.”

“Yeah, which was a slip up but does make it easier now I know.”

Well, points for effort, she decided.

“Alright then, how was your day?”

“Yeah, it was alright,” he said pouring them both a cup of tea.

“Anything interesting happen?”

“Fred bit the neighbours dog.”

“I'm sorry, say that again?”

“Your youngest offspring assaulted the neighbour's canine with his canines.”

Hardy placed both mugs down on the table.

“Oh my god, is he okay?”

“How should I know? I'm not a bloody vet.”

“Fred you moron not the dog.”

“What's he got to be traumatized about? The poor bloody dog's the one that got bit.”

Miller pinched her nose. “So he is fine then?”

Hardy hesitated. “Which -”

“My son, you idiot.”

“Your son proceeded to steal a bunch of dog biscuits, fling himself into a patch of mud, streaked it through the house and collapsed face first on the sofa watching cartoons.”

“Right. And where were you during all of this?”

“Me? Three steps behind flailing ineffectually, trying to working out which fire to put out first,” he answered bluntly.

At that Miller chuffed a laugh. “Welcome back to parenthood.”

Hardy sighed and deflated, a tired smile at one corner of his mouth.

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

Miller chuckled and stood, rising on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Didn't happen to get a picture did you?” She asked, putting her arms around his neck. “Sounds like one for the Memories album.”

Hardy snorted. He allowed the closeness but made no active response, his form curved towards her a little but his hands stayed in his pockets.

“No,” he replied. “But your other hellspawn decided to help out by filming the whole thing on his bloody mobile.”

Miller smiled proudly, “Good lad.”

“Yeah, not quite what I called him.”

“You love it really.”

“Not sure I'd call it love,” he answered, chin tilted up, eyes in the distance as he considered. “Stockholm Syndrome maybe.”

“Oh yeah? And what would be the devious plan behind kidnapping you?”

“Ransom?”

Miller snorted. “And who's paying that exactly?”

“I never said you'd thought it through.”

She chuckled and kissed him lightly, “Aww. I'd pay a ransom for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean not a big one, but...”

“Oh, great. So there's a financial value on my life is there?”

“Well I figure after a while you'd probably just irritate someone into releasing you. Leave you there long enough they'd probably pay me to take you back.”

“Mmm, they'd have to be proper nutters to put up with me for that long.”

“Exactly. You'd drive any sane person nuts.”

“Well thank the lord I met you then.”

“Absolutely.” She pressed another small kiss to his lips. “Dinner?”

“Homemade quiche, it'll nearly be done reheating. Coleslaw, salad and new tatties. I made enough for a few batallions so there should be a wee bit left now that Tom's been at it.”

“I swear he grew half a foot last week. He'll be your height before we know it.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“What?”

“That look, what're you thinking about?”

“Mh. Nothing.”

“Tell me, go on.”

Hardy went quiet for a moment but she could tell it was a preface, not a refusal. Whatever it was that was bothering him needed a bit of mental juggling before he spoke the words allowed.

“They've a new PE teacher up at the secondary school. Young lad, met him earlier.”

Miller waited patiently as he assembled his thoughts.

“Tom introduced me to him, introduced me as Alec,” he said, a faint frown on his brow. “When his teacher, whatever his name was – who for the record looks like he's about twelve – I mean where do the even find these people? Looks like he should be in the bloody – right, sorry. Point of the story. When the twelve-year-old referred to me as his dad, Tom didn't correct him.”

“Okay, so. That's okay isn't it?”

“Course. Whatever he wants. Just... confusing is all. I mean, it's easy with wee Fred, y'know? I mean he bites pets and won't keep his clothes on but at least you know where you stand. Tom?” Hardy shifted uncomfortably. “Tom's no a bairn anymore, he remembers Joe, he remembers Danny. He's near enough a young man now. It's not easy to figure out where I stand in his life.”

“I think he probably feels the same way.”

Hardy nodded in understanding. 

“He likes you though,” she offered.

Hardy shook his head, “He doesn't mind me, there's a difference.”

“He does,” Miller reassured, running a thumb along the back of his neck. “He just needs some time to warm to you.”

“He accepts me, I'm no pushing him more than that. Can't really ask for more than that really.”

“You'll get there, in time. Both of you.”

“Aye,” he answered quietly, not entirely convinced. 

“He's been hurt,” said Miller. “It's nothing to do with anything you've done or not done. Christ, if it was anyone but you I doubt he'd be taking it half as well.”

“You think?”

“I know,” she said, with a small shake of the head. “They way you've dealt with all of this, the way you interact with the boys. You're doing amazingly.”

Hardy looked down at his feet. 

“Just want to be good for them.” He raised his eyes, enough to see her from his peripheral but not enough to make eye contact. “For you.”

“Then you're doing it right.”

Hardy shook his head, “You did such a good job with them Miller. To get them to this stage with so little problems after everything they went through. You've done so, so well.”

“Yeah, well. We're parents aren't we? We don't get a choice. We do our best. Whatever it takes.”

“Always” He said. “But there's a lot of people out there that still find a way not to. You don't give yourself enough credit for how remarkable you are.”

“Oh I dunno, you seem to remind me I'm a weirdo often enough.”

“Well that's true.”

Miller smiled.

“That is true and as your and Tom and Fred's... whatever-the-hell, I will make it my duty to remind you of how truly abnormal you are. Everyday.”

“D'aww, I knew you were a romantic.”

A series of sharp electronic beeps interrupted.

“Shall we see what Tom's left for us?”

“I really want to say leave it and let's go have sex but I am honestly starving right now.”

“Well, the thought's appreciated. Food first, shag later?”

“Definitely ransom worthy,” she praised and smiled when the warmth in his swiftly averted eyes let her know that for once he accepted it. 

,


	4. Chapter 4

“Miller, that's a nice name. Milllll-er.”

"Oh yeah?" Miller said, trying not to let him collapse in a heap in the hallway. Hardy didn't tend to drink but he'd had a couple tonight. It might've been a couple bottles to put him like this but she suspected that his new medication had more to do with it.

"Yeah, s'nice. Soft and soft and poofy and white. S' like snow."

"...absolutely love."

"Don't like Ellie. Smelly Ellie, telly belly. But don't tell her."

Miller rolled her eyes and deposited him on the bed with a bit less care than she should have.

“Is that so Alec?”

“No, no don't like that name. No.”

“Why not, it's a nice name,” she said pulling off one of his shoes.

“No, s'not. Alec," he said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, one that he didn't spit out because he was trying to find the right words to describe just how awful it was. "Ahhh-lick, ah-lick, a lick. Like a cat. Or a dog. Bleugh.”

“Right...”

“S'ma Dad's anyway.”

“Oh. Huh, I didn't know that. So really you're Alec Hardy the Second then?”

“No,” he scowled.

“What, Alec Hardy Junior then?”

“No.”

“What?”

“What?”

Miller sighed in frustration. “What is your dad's name, Hardy?”

“Alec,” he lifted his head to stare at her blearily. “Are you drunk?”

“Your dad's name was Alec Hardy then? Making you Alec Hardy the what... second, third, fourth? How unimaginative are your family with names?”

“Williams, Alec Williams. Wasn't nice. Wasn't nice being Alec Williams.”

"Oh," she said. 

That wasn't where she'd expected this conversation to go. Truthfully she hadn't thought he was awake enough to be having a proper conversation. Maybe she should shut him down, this was stuff you had to drag out of him tooth and nail when he was sober. 

“Took mum's name, she was a nice mum.”

“Good,” she said tugged off the other shoe. It was the best she could do, nice closed answers. She couldn't ignore him, not even like this. It would hurt him and he really didn't deserve to be hurt anymore. Least of all by her.

Pain from someone you love was always worse. 

"Everyone deserves at least one decent parent," she said. The words escaped before she could stop them, dragged out by the thoughts she was having difficulty shutting down now.

“You're a good mum," he said softly.

“Thank you."

It struck her a little, how much she meant that. How easily doubts and fears had built up since her married life had fallen apart. 

“S'good. The lads, they're..." he frowned to himself as if presented with something complex."They should have a good one. S'portant. I try to be a good mum. I would be, if you weren't here. Be good for them. Wee lads. I'd take care of them."

"I know you would."

"I'd love them lots. I can do love Miller, I can," he grabbed at her hand, struggling to focus.

"Course you can," she said and brushed a mess of hair back from his forehead. Hardy's eyes closed and he gasped out a sigh then hummed contentedly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“You're so out of it,” she muttered fondly to herself.

“Out 'f what?” His eyes snapped open. “D'I'do not good? I don'wanna do not good.”

“You did good,” she reassured, stroking her nails gently over his scalp eliciting another sigh.

“I did?”

Miller leaned in and kissed his brow. "Always."

Hardy smiled at her, besotted.

“I like you,” he smiled.

“Good. Now go to sleep.”

“Wanna stay with you.”

“I'm not going anywhere, I've an early tomorrow, remember?"

“No,” he pouted. “Don't wan'you t'...”

"I'm coming to bed, I'm getting changed alright?"

He was so quiet as she got her stuff out of the drawers that she wondered if he'd fallen asleep. That was until she started stripping off.

“Milllehr,” he whined. "No."

“What?” She looked over her shoulder to see him lying there with his eyes clenched shut, brow furrowed.

“Gonnae no do that.”

“What, get naked in my own bedroom?”

“Ahm, 'nebrieated. M'not supposed t'peek and you're makin' it hard by bein' all naked.”

“Alec Hardy,” she grinned. “Are you trying to protect my modesty.”

He peeked one eye open to give her a glare then clapped both hands over his eyes. 

“No peekin'”.

Miller giggled. She'd intended to just get changed quickly but instead walked round to the side Hardy lay sprawled over and perched on the edge of the bed.

“Do you want to look.”

“No?”

“How about this, you can take a look – if you'd like to – and then we both go to sleep, okay?”

“...is it a trick?”

“No, not a trick.”

Slowly he let her take his hands away, he stared at her breasts with comically wide eyes. They were nothing much to look at, forty years of gravity and nursing two kids will do that but when he looked so thrilled to see them it was difficult to be self conscious about them. 

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You are a very sweet man. Utter twat, but very sweet.”

With that she stood up and walked back round to her side of the bed and put on her baggy pyjammas. When she settled herself and looked over he was watching her with a massive grin.

“I saw your bum,” he smiled.

“Well it's a nice bum, someone should appreciate it.”

Hardy nodded sagely.

“Sweet dreams, try not to be a total twat in the morning.”

From the darkness she could hear Hardy giggle, “Bum.”

Miller buried her face into the pillow and tried not to laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So someone left some really nice comments and I promised an update. What? No, I didn't write this eight months ago and only edited it now. How dare you sir!

 

 

The amount of food that lot could put away was incredible.

 

And that was on a normal day, not the annual nationwide feast of overindulgence. Fair enough, you tend to eat a little more than is sensible on xmas day but bloody hell, thought Hardy.

 

Not that they ever seemed the worse for ware of it.

 

Miller and Freddie were both perfectly normal and Tom despite the massive quantities of food he shoveled down was actually a little on the skinny side. Christ, he was gonna be tall that one, might even be looking him in the eye before the boy's next birthday.

 

A a small smile caught the corner of his lips, the thought that he'd be around to see it pooling warm inside of him.

 

"Still,” Miller's voice interupted his thoughts. “Nice to see you at least making an effort at a decent meal."

 

Hardy raised an eyebrow.

 

Clearly there had been something before that but hell was going to admit he hadn't heard it.

 

“Decent? Were we sitting at the same bloody table? I was half afraid it was gonna give way under the weight.”

 

It had been a bloody feast, that meal. Filled to the brim with meats and pastries and desserts and vegetables - actual honest to god vegetables. A mountain of them, towering skyscrapers mocking him with their very existence. Every type he'd tried to get Tom and Freddie to eat without success for months on end - and they'd just shoveled them down with everything else. Not a single word of complaint.

 

"I don't think I can move,” he groaned.

 

"Mm, xmas coma.”

 

Miller slouched down sideways until she leaned against his shoulder, tucked up close, her weight pressing against his side.

 

It was nothing short of wonderful.

 

The weather was miserable, the curtains were shut. It was warm and cozy, their bellies were full, maybe a little too full if he's being honest. His partner happy, sated at his side, pressing against him with casual intimacy he'd been so long without.

 

It had been so long since things had been comfortable, since he was free of anger and hurt and able to feel like this.

 

Content.

 

Miller burped loudly at his side, a waft of digesting brussel sprouts wrinkled his nose. Miller belatedly raise a hand to her mouth .

 

"P'rn me. Oh. That one's gonna come back on me again. Maybe skip those in the leftovers tomorrow."

 

"Leftovers? I don't think I'm gonna need to eat for a week."

 

The boys were lying stretched out on the floor. Freddie was passed out, covered in splotches of melted chocolate. Which wouldn't have been quite so bad if he hadn't also been sprawled face down over the beanbag that Santa had recently delivered. The one that Freddie had insisted be white.

 

Tom unbelievably still had one hand in a half-empty tin of Quality Streets. Hardy felt mildly nauseous, though it could have been from seeing Tom playing away on his new hand held whatsit. Hardy didn't really know what it was (expensive aside) but Tom was thrilled with it. That beam on his face was a big as Freddie's and in that moment it had felt worth every single last pound he'd spent on it.

 

For that and the look he'd shared with Miller.

 

Hardy's stomach interrupted with a tortured sound.

 

“That doesn't sound promising.”

 

“Sounded fine to me.”

 

"I really shouldn't have eaten that much."

 

Miller snorted. "Fred ate more than you did."

 

"Oh don't be ridiculous," he replied, privately well aware it might actually be less of an exaggeration than it sounded. "I mean look at this."

 

Hardy glanced down to the swollen rise on his abdomen, particularly noticable given it's contrast with the rest of his stark anatomy. Miller, whose anatomy was pleasingly more soft and reassuring glowered at him from the side of her eye, one hand resting on her belly.

 

Hardy wasn't quite sure if that meant something but decided just to keep his mouth shut and portray totally oblivious, it usually ended mildly better than when he tried and missed.

"I think I ate enough to put me in hibernation for the rest of the winter. In fact, that sounds like a plan. I now live here. This couch is now home. It is home of the grizzly bearded one who is best not disturbed for the next few months."

 

Tom snorted. "Sounds like normal."

 

"Oi."

 

"Tom, you know that's not true,” said Miller sternly. “You know fine well he hibernates at his desk.”

 

Tom cackled.

 

Hardy grunted.

 

Miller smiled at him. Hardy gave her a mock glare in turn but her face, if possible, turned even gentler.

 

"How did this happen, hey?"

 

Her voice was soft and she reached out for him scratching gently at the scruff on his jaw. Hardy's brow furrowed not quite sure why she was asking about his facial hair or where that had come from.

 

"Sharing my life with a pale, grumpy bear."

 

"Sounds like you've got a catch there Miller."

 

"Oh he's not so bad. Has a few advantages,” she smiled, a little flirty. "And he's great with the cubs. No one I'd trust them with more.”

 

Hardy nodded almost imperceptibly, eyes drifting to the boys.

 

Miller smiled to herself. Hardy never thought much of himself. Getting him to take a compliment was a nightmare and that made expressing affection for him more than a little tricky. Thankfully, she was more than up for a challenge.

 

He was proud of his kids and couldn't think of himself as a bad parent, his pride in Daisy, or even in the boys wouldn't allow anything less. For them to be the wonders that they are, he must at the very least be adequate. He could accept that Miller would trust him with her boys because he knew himself he'd die to protect them. That wasn't a positive attribute of himself, it was simply a fact.

 

Miller knew the man was a juggernaught when it came to resolve but knew she'd never quite get him to see it her way. Learning to speak a little Hardy though wasn't quite as difficult.

 

"I know whatever happens to me, he'll keep them safe."

 

Hardy's eyes met hers.

 

It was a little painful how emotional they were. No one should look so touched to have such an evident part of them acknowledged, Miller thought. Especially a man like this one. Yet there it was, eyes that wouldn't have looked so moved if she'd made a thousand declarations of love.

 

"I would."

 

She squeezed his hand, “I know.

 

He said nothing further in words but his face said more than she knew how to deal with.

 

“Soft knob,” she teased and bumped his shoulder.

 

Hardy snorted in amusement.

 

“Never thought I'd be able to relax again. Even if it's only minutes, hours, a day. More than I ever thought I'd be able to forget...”

 

This time his hand tightens on hers, steady and reassuring.

 

"He's given me another chance at life, that grumpy creature. I mean he's not fixed anything, and god knows he hasn't made anything simpler but he's... he's in my corner, you know? Life was just beating the shit out of me and it was all I could do to just take it.”

 

She could feel her voice begin to waver, Hardy's eyes were on her, soulful but unflinching.

 

“Doesn't change the fight but it changes everything else, you know? There's someone in my corner. Makes it feel like you've got a fighting chance.”

 

“A fighting chance,” he echoed.

 

“That's all I want these days,” she confessed, blinking back tears she wouldn't acknowledge.

 

"A fair fight at a good life.”

 

The words brought her eyes to his like magnets. Words escaped her so she nodded, tremulously.

 

"Oh Miller," he whispered, heartbroken and adoring.

 

Almost as if somehow she'd just given him the world.

 

It wasn't a look she could bear. Instead, Miller tilted her head to rest against his shoulders and Hardy took it as an invite to rest his cheek against her. In her minds eye, he closed his eyes and peace drifted down over his face.

 

But Hardy's eyes were open, wet and shining. Not through tears of course. Just reflections. The lights on the tree, Tom's game, the lamps. That was all.

 

Tom groped in the tin for another sweetie. Freddie hugged his beanbag tighter, smearing chocolate further into the seems. Miller burped into her fist and pardoned herself. Hardy's nose wrinkled once again at the smell.

 

This was real. It was life in it's smelly, noisy, infuriating reality. No day dream, no desperate hallucination.

 

No where else he would rather be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely people! If it makes you smile or makes you feel, flag it up. I'd be endlessly appreciative, I never quite know what works and what doesn't, so concrit/feedback is lifeblood. x


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